


Sharing Beds Like Little Kids

by GillianSaysRAWR



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meeting, Fluff, M/M, Party, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GillianSaysRAWR/pseuds/GillianSaysRAWR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock bumps into John at a party neither of them wish to be at, spilling his drink all over him. Turns out, it ends up being a rather enjoyable night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Beds Like Little Kids

**Author's Note:**

> I started this imagining it to be based off of Lorde's song 'Ribs' but then it didn't. Oh well. The title is a nod to the song, though.

John didn’t know why Mike had dragged him to the party he now found himself standing in the middle of. On every side of him, people stood with their cups in hand, talking about the latest football match or trying to flirt hopelessly. He didn’t like it at all. It felt as if he was in a different world than that of the others at the party, he felt as though he was the only one here that was chatting someone up, or defending the ref’s call at the end of the first half.

His hand suddenly felt empty, seeing as he was probably the only person, once again, that didn’t have a drink. John made his way towards the kitchen, maneuvering his way around bodies, saying a small “Sorry” if he brushed someone, although it was probably hard to hear him over the music. 

The kitchen was full of random bottles of liquor lined up on the counters, some were open, and others were not. John grabbed a cup and the bottle of vodka, and poured it into his hand; he moved over to the fridge and looked for a can of soda, to mix with the vodka. Finding one that he liked, he opened it and poured it into the cup, filling it to the brim. With things in both hands, he turned to throw the can in the recycling when his body hit another and his drink began to soak through his shirt.

“Shit!” A baritone voice rumbled, “I’m sorry.” 

John looked up at the person who bumped into him, a boy, around his age, but a lot taller than any regular sixteen year old, with faint white skin and dark curls.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. It’ll come out.” John said, taking the napkins the attractive stranger was holding out for him. 

“I’m Sherlock,” the boy said, “and you don’t want to be here.”

John looked up at him, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m John.”

Sherlock took the napkins and cup from John’s hands and in one swift motion, threw the napkins out and picked up the bottle of vodka, “I believe this is what you were drinking?”

With an approving nod from John, Sherlock poured the vodka into the cup, and filled it up again with soda. “I’m sorry I bumped into you; enjoy trying to leave the party.” He said, handing John the cup.

Sherlock turned to leave, but John grabbed his sleeve, causing Sherlock to spin around and face him again. He was intrigued Sherlock, and didn’t want him to leave.

“Let’s talk.” He said, fully taking in the other man. Sherlock was a bit overdressed for the party, if John did say so himself. He was in a tight fitting, deep purple dress shirt, dark jeans and nice shoes, while John was in old jeans and pull over. A pull over covered in vodka.

They left the kitchen and found a spot by the stairs; John put his back up against the wall, while Sherlock leaned against it with his shoulder, facing John.

“So, why’d you come if you didn’t want to?” Sherlock asked, taking a sip from his cup. John watched his thin lips curl around the edge of the cup.

“My friend brought me, told me it would ‘do me good,’ doubt it though.” It was John’s turn to take a sip of his drink.

“Same, my friend had a similar reason from dragging me along, told me to ‘expand my social horizons.’ How horrid.” John let out a small smile, and Sherlock smiled back, happy that the smaller man approved of his humor and was nice enough to show it by flashing that adorable smile.

John sighed, “Our friends want to help us but just ended up leaving us.” 

Sherlock smiled, “Pricks.”

They both let out a small laugh and took another sip from their cups, slowly becoming more and more comfortable with each other.

John noticed the air between him and Sherlock change. He noticed that after he noticed Sherlock’s ivory skin contrasting the deep purple of his shirt collar. That was after he noticed how beautifully his pink lips added a touch of color to his face and how his eyes were cloudy, never quite the same color as they were a minute ago, but gorgeous all the same.

Sherlock noticed John noticing.

He then noticed John tense up as a petite blond passed them by.

“Ex-girlfriend?” Sherlock asked.

John looked up, confusion fogging his face. “Um…yeah.”

“I see.” Sherlock said, taking another swig from the plastic cup in his hand.

“Broke up a while ago though, so no hard feelings.” John assured.

Sherlock glanced down at the ground, and quickly back up at John, “A month ago, actually. You two cut it off mutually, as you like to tell yourselves. She felt as though you were growing apart, she was right, you were. You were too focused on your school work, while she wasn’t, that was the one thing you hated about her. She had enough of being second best to a textbook and note cards so she brought it up and you agreed, ending it after eight months. She gave you back the necklace you got her for your six month anniversary. Sterling silver. A little heart. She’s still kind of angry about it, but you’ve moved on. So, only hard feelings on her part.” 

There was silence.

Sherlock go nervous, he shifted his feet and took a steady drink.

“That was brilliant.” It was all John could say, and all John needed to say.

A blush grew on Sherlock’s cheeks as he looked down, “Thank you.” He was smiling, looking into his cup. 

John began to feel warm in the pit of his stomach, looking at the man in front of him smile. It was a sight to behold, utterly dazzling.

“How’d you do it?” He asked, giving back the smile that made his insides tingle.

Sherlock looked up from his drink, “I observe the people around me, that’s it really. It can tell you a lot, observing.”

Once again, Sherlock began observing. But this time, his eyes were glued on John. 

The man’s heart rate was elevated, and his pupils dilated. His sandy blond hair sat on his head and Sherlock just wanted to ruffle it, to be honest, a weird feeling from him. He never thought of someone in that way before.

Sherlock could tell John was beginning to look at him more than a guy he bumped into at a party, and his own heart skipped a beat at the thought.

There was a smirk tugging at Sherlock’s lips when he became back in touch with reality, he moved closer to John, and leaned down so that his lips were only mere centimeters away from his ear.

“You find me attractive, don’t you?” Sherlock purred, causing John to shake, his knees almost giving out on him. “You find my deductions to be a slight turn on, am I right?”

John let out a breath, and then gave Sherlock his own little smirk, “And what if I told you that you were right?” 

“Then, I happen to know that one bedroom upstairs isn’t being occupied.” Sherlock took a nip at John’s earlobe, and was then being lead up the stairs and to the empty room he mentioned.

Sherlock shut the door behind him as he slid into the room, pushing John onto the bed as he heard the door fully slam. 

John was laying there, flat on his back, while Sherlock got on the bed, his knees on either side of the man under him. Sherlock leaned down, and pushed his lips onto Johns, whose own welcomed him.

It was a mess of lips sliding against lips; it was heated and passionate all at the same time.

“You’ve never done something like this before,” Sherlock gasped, between kisses, his mouth getting taken by John’s once again, “This is new for you,” he let out into John’s mouth.

Sherlock’s hands made their way under John’s pull over, “I’m the first man you’ve ever felt like this for,” he kept going, stealing deductions between kisses, only to have John kiss him back harder. 

“You’ve been undressing me in your mind all night,” and with those words, John ripped Sherlock’s shirt open, safely loosing no buttons while doing so, “And now, you’re ecstatic because I’m letting you do it.” 

John moved to Sherlock’s neck, kissing the pearly expanse, “You love it,” John began to suck, “It’s the greatest feeling you’ve had for a while,” his tongue swirling on the skin under it, Sherlock’s breath hitched, and John swore he could hear him whimper.

_“You have an erection.”_

John never thought those words would turn him on as much as they just did, and he moved his mouth from Sherlock’s neck back to his mouth and began grinding against Sherlock. 

There were whimpers, and moans, and gasps for breath and John had never kissed someone so passionately in his entire life. 

By the time they were done, Sherlock’s shirt was across the room, his smooth white neck and collar now fluttered with bruises beginning to form. John’s pull over lay at the edge of the bed, his own set of hickeys, to match Sherlock’s, beginning to form as well. They were tangled up in each other, John’s head nestled in Sherlock’s shoulder, and Sherlock wrapping his limbs around John, pulling him closer by the second.

“We should do this again.” John mumbled into Sherlock’s skin.

“You want to be a doctor, right?” Sherlock asked.

John looked up at him, a small smile on his lips, he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of Sherlock's deductions, “Yes.”

“Well,” Sherlock began, “I’ll let you use me to learn about human anatomy after dinner tomorrow night.” 

John gave Sherlock a wide smile, and bit his lip, something that he would learn turns Sherlock on just as much as the deductions do to him, “That can work.”

They stayed cuddle there, falling lightly asleep until Mike came in to get John and take him home.


End file.
